Moments of Malevolence (The Hunters Book 1)
Moments of Malevolence: Chapter 1

“YOU’VE REACHED Sage from You Beat It, We Spit It. First, let’s start with your name…”

That incredible voice rings through my phone, and I sit up a little straighter at the sound.

A swan. For some reason, her voice reminds me of a swan, lord fucking knows why, it’s not like they talk… But I bet if it did, it would sound like her—all grace and elegance with a melodic glide that can make a grown man moan.

“Hello?” There she goes again, making my cock hard with that damn voice.

Fuck.

Fuck.

“Sage…” She pauses at my voice, and I hear her breathing pick up. “You’ve been working a lot lately,” I tell her.

“That just proves you’ve been calling a lot lately,” she replies back.

Little does she know just how many times I call—many more than she can imagine. Hearing her voice eases a lot of shit stirring inside me and I fucking hate it, because no one should hold that much power without knowing it.

I can’t remember the first time I called or how I got the number. But now I treat it like a druggie treats crack, and I’m fucking milking it for all it’s worth.

That voice.

The way she says my name.

“Are you still there, Zuko?” She doesn’t say it in a voice of concern, more like boredom and one that implies I need to hurry up so she can get back to whatever it is she was doing.

Women either drop to their knees for me or run. Her? Well, she doesn’t seem to care.

And I like that about her.

A lot.

I hear her chewing gum on the other end of the line and listen as she blows a bubble and it pops loudly into the receiver.

“Yes,” I answer.

“Good. So how do you want to do this tonight?” she asks. “Would you like me to start by telling you how wet I am at hearing your sinful-as-fuck voice echo through the phone and calling my name? You know I enjoy it when you call my name,” she purrs.

“It’s not your real name, now, is it?” I reply. “Tell me your real name,” I urge.

She laughs. It’s not a playful noise, more of a “yeah, fucking right, not happening” sound.

“Zuko. Is that even your real name? It sounds made up.” A change of subject—she is so very good at deflecting.

“Yes, it is my name. Why would I give you a fake name?”

“Okay, we can agree to disagree, Zuko.” She says my name long and drawn out as it rolls off her tongue. “How would you like today to go?”

“Tell me… What did you do today?” I ask.

“Is that what you really want to hear?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. First, you tell me what you did.”

“I sliced a man’s throat because he annoyed me. It was bloody.”

“You always say the weirdest shit.” I can imagine her head shaking and the look on her face—pure boredom.

“What color is your hair?” I ask.

“Blue,” she says without missing a beat. “Though, I may change it tomorrow.”

“Why blue?”

“Because I was depressed this week and decided my hair should match my mood.” My lips pull at the side of my mouth. “Would blue hair bother you?” she asks.

“No. Now tell me your name.”

“It’s Sage. We’ve had this discussion. Honestly, this topic is getting boring, and you’re wasting my time. I’m working here, Zuko, so let’s do what you’re paying me to do, or shall we move on.”

“You don’t want to talk to me anymore?” I ask.

“If it’s dirty.”

“Go on… Tell me about your tits,” I urge.

I’m not sure when it changed, where I became more obsessed with listening to her than the actual words she speaks to me. But it’s addicting, tempting, and incredibly arousing.

“Hmm… You want to know how my fingers are sliding in my bra right now to touch my pink, taut nipples?” she whispers. “Or how wet the thought of you makes me?”

I say nothing—she’s used to it.

She continues. “Zuko, right now I’m imagining your hands gripping me, so fucking roughly it’s going to leave bruises… Marks wherever you touch me. Your hands are big, I know they are. And I’ll be marked by you for all to see. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Your hands marking me, sliding over my ass, slapping it hard. Hmm…” She gives me her best moan, and I wonder if her real ones sound the same.

Probably different.

Definitely different.

“I’m going to find you, Sage, and when I do—”

She hangs up every time.

This time is no different.

Fucking burner phone.

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